By Jae-Ha Kim
Substack (.pdf)
December 6, 2006
After two previous miscarriages, I was pregnant again and had made it into my second trimester. The non-stop morning sickness finally ended; my belly was round and firm; and I finally broke down and bought some maternity clothes. The ultrasounds, heart beat monitorings and genetic testing all showed a healthy baby growing inside of me. As we shared the news with our family and friends, my husband and I felt happy and secure.
For four and a half months, I carried our baby. And then just one day after a nervous trip to the Emergency Room confirmed that the baby was OK, I miscarried. Our little baby was gone.
It is a horrible thing for anyone to lose a loved one, but when you lose a child that hasn’t yet been born, you feel an incredible amount of guilt that maybe you could have prevented this miscarriage. In my brain, I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. But in my heart, it was completely different. Maybe if I had eaten more in the first trimester, the baby would have survived. If I had slept on my left side more often than on the right, perhaps the baby would’ve gotten more oxygen. I felt guilty for complaining about all the back pain this little being was causing me. I was heartsick that just days ago, I had been worrying about what to do with all the furniture in our guest room when we converted the space into the baby’s room. And I cried when I thought about all the times I resented the baby because I couldn’t eat sushi or drink coffee because I was pregnant. What kind of selfish mother was I?
This baby — our child — was a symbol of our future. As we watched him grow over the months, we grew more and more in love with this little being that evolved from a raspberry-like image into a wiggly little baby. Even seeing his full bladder as a tiny black dot in the ultrasound was adorable to us.
We did the best we could and so had our baby. We took solace in the fact that if he was too weak to survive, we didn’t want him to suffer any more than he already may have. There was no medical reason why our baby didn’t survive and there are no assurances that this won’t happen to us again.
As the doctor removed the last remnants of the placenta from my uterus, I sobbed — not from the pain, but from piercing sadness. My husband held my hand and cried along with me. I could not have loved him any more than I did then. The grief that we felt was indescribable, but the fact that we had each other to love made it bearable.
Our family and friends mourned the loss along with us. As my mother struggled to control her voice so she wouldn’t cry, she admitted she had been looking forward to the baby’s first kick.
Maybe I was just trying to make my mother feel better, but as I said the words, I realized they were true: Yes, it’s horrible that I miscarried. But this little baby also brought us immense joy during the 18 weeks I was pregnant. Every day, my husband beamed as he touched my expanding belly. He joked that the baby was in a hurry to grow up and be held. My conversations with my parents — which had sometimes been filled with my impatience to get off the phone — were easy going and filled with laughter. We spoke often and lovingly about what it would be like in a few more months when the baby was born.
In a few months, when our baby was due, we will see our neighborhood expand. Three women living within a few blocks from us are set to deliver around the same time I was. Instead of being resentful and jealous of their joy, I look forward to celebrating their happiness when they bring home their infants.
While I still grieve the loss of our baby, I also honor his memory by taking time to remember all the happiness he brought to our lives. His legacy remains with my husband and me. When I think about the miscarriage, I no longer recall the physical pain, but rather how brave and gentle my husband was, suppressing his own anguish to comfort and care for me. There’s nothing you can do to change the past, but appreciating what you have in the present goes a long way in helping with the healing process.
For my husband and me, our sense of security was taken away with this miscarriage. There is no guarantee for any of us that there will be a tomorrow. Life is fragile and is meant to be appreciated every day, even when it includes a loss.
© 2006 JAE-HA KIM | All Rights Reserved
Jae I’m so sorry for your losses. Please read the book “Heaven is for Real” by Todd Burpo.
While I know it’s not the religion you follow, I do think you will find it interesting. Thank God Kyle came along and ‘picked’ you two for parents. He is indeed a great blessing!
Thank you, Natasha.
I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I too had miscarriages with one being a D & C. Thank you for sharing such a private moment.
Jae, I’m so sorry. I have been through this too. The anticipation and loss is hard to explain, and yet you somehow did, talented writer that you are. This piece was very touching. I will be thinking of you.
Thanks all. I should point out this happened many years ago. I originally just wrote this for myself–in 2006. Since then, my father has died and we have a beautiful son. Life goes on, right?
Made me cry–and even though it happened a few years ago, I wanted to give you a big hug! Such a sad time that I’m sorry you had to go through. I’m so glad you have such a wonderful husband…and, of course, The Peanut!!! Oh, The Peanut!!! *squeal!*
Thanks for sharing Jae. Beautifully written.
Jae, That was so beautifully written. Before I signed on facebook today, I was cleaning my kitchen and you popped into my mind. How brave you are… and how you have become such an amazing mother. I smile every time I think of you with Kyle. I still remember your phone call to me from the ER. You my friend have the gift of knowing how precious life is, how precious our families are and how much we can truly love another human being. Happy Mother’s Day Jae! Both of your babies are so lucky to have you as their Mommy!
Ah Jae, that was beautiful. Thank you for sharing this piece of your life, you are an amazing person.
Wow. I, of course, never knew you endured this. Your thoughts about it now are beautiful and very revealing. I’ve never been pregnant a day in my life, so I can only imagine what those trials were like. I’m glad you found comfort in your husband and that your family has so bravely carried on. God bless you this Mother’s Day!
May 8, 2011 at 12:17pm · Like
Jae-Ha, I sit and read your words with tears rolling down my checks as I know that pain all to well. Beautifully said. And here we both are with our child(ren) and couldn’t be happier! I hope you had a wonderful Mother’s Day!!! xoxox ~ Dawn
Thank you to everyone for your lovely comments!
This popped up on my Facebook’s “On This Day Today” feed, asking if I wanted to share it again today. Ironically, it’s as I’m planning to make dinner tonight for a friend who just had her first baby. Life goes on.
Thank you for writing this. No one talks about miscarriages and just expect you to get on with your life. I had a friend who basically silenced me and told me to stop talking about it. I slowly distanced myself from her because that was just indicative of who she was, selfish with a mean streak. I hope this isn’t too personal but did you have a funeral for your baby? I wish I had one for mine. It would’ve helped with closure I think. I still don’t have any children and I’m OK with that, but I will always miss my little baby too. Blessings.
Thank you for sharing your very personal story. I too suffered 2 miscarriages.
(((HUGS)))
Love you jae!!!!
Hugs ((((<3)))
I so just want to hug you both right now..
Beautifully written as always. Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you for sharing. We lost two babies to miscarriage, and I can relate to what you so eloquently shared. Beautiful. Thinking of you today. XO
HUG
♥
I hope you named those precious babies, they will be waiting for you some day. God Bless you and your sweet little angels.
Now my eyes are watering…must be allergies… hugs!
This moved my heart today. Thank you for sharing from a deep place. I’m sending a hug, too…
I can relate as well. Big hugs.
Sorry for your loss
My deepest sympathies… Matthew 5:4!
Hugs! We love you guys!
Oh my word. This is heartbreaking. Thank you for sharing this.
Jae and Denton, I am so sorry for your loss! I couldn’t get through this article without breaking down. You two have such a great relationship and take great joy in life together, there’s nothing you two can’t do. Thinking of you both at this time…
Thank you for sharing ur true story in ur life
Very well said Jae- I find it so hard to put the depth of the pain into words and you did it so perfectly xxoo
Beautifully written … so sorry for your losses
I wanted to thank you all for your incredibly kind words. It meant the world to me. Also, to those of you who have miscarried, my deepest condolences. There’s a contingent of people who just wanted me to forget about it and go on with life. I felt like that just wasn’t the way to deal with that kind of grief. I have a wonderful life and am grateful for all the goodness I encounter every single day. Thank you again!